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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456339">Runaway</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethnefarious/pseuds/hiraethnefarious'>hiraethnefarious</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lawless (2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:42:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethnefarious/pseuds/hiraethnefarious</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of one-shots detailing Howard's relationship with Ruth; the runaway from North Carolina. She shows up like a firecracker in his moonshine and violence-filled life. She is running from her daddy, he is running from his past, and they become each other's safe place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Howard Bondurant &amp; Original Female Character(s), Howard Bondurant/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Runaway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time he met her, she looked like a little boy. They were driving down the dark road when Jack suddenly slammed the car to a halt, nearly throwing Howard out of the bed of the truck. Howard slams against the boxes of jars, and he feels the hardwood hit his stomach.</p><p>"Christ!" He roars before regaining his balance and looking at the roadblock, which had stopped his little brother. It was another truck, one he recognized. They weren't from around these parts and were workers for a rival bootlegger. Howard clenches his fists before throwing himself out of the truck bed, ready to knock their teeth out. Forrest had also stepped out of the truck, and is leaning against the door, his eyebrow raised. The opposite men had a boy by his collar, with a bloody nose and had their fist raised- clearly ready for another hit, but were no staring at the brothers with angry eyes.</p><p>"Do yous' have a problem?" The one observing the beating asked.</p><p>"This here ain't your territory. What are you two doing 'ere?" Jack asked from the truck, making Forrest roll his eyes at his kid brother for always getting involved when he shouldn't.</p><p>"Was lookin' for this here stowaway. This boy done snuck on our truck." The drunk beater says. Forrest shakes his head before nodding at the beaten person.</p><p>"That's a lady you have there." He points out, and the beater makes a choked noise before tossing the person to the ground. The 'girl' scrambles to their knees, trying to get away from them. Howard glances down at them before ripping off their cap, causing long, ratty brown hair to come tumbling out. She looks up at Howard, blood trailing down her face from a very clearly broken nose. He raises his eyebrows as the headlights shine on her pathetic form. She was dressed in torn brown trousers and a large overcoat, clearly trying to mask her figure.</p><p>"You don't like no girl." He says bluntly. He can hear Forrest grunt before shoving his cigar into his mouth, staring at the two men who were still blocking their path. Their damn truck was still in the same spot, halted in the middle of the road.</p><p>The woman looks back at her two abusers before one of them recognizes her, and with a shaking finger, he walks closer to her, making her stagger to her feet and puffed out her chest. Howard notes how she doesn't even reach his shoulder. He snorts at the little thing trying to look tough.</p><p>"Hey- I know yous'. I'm bringin' you back," The man begins, but she shakes her head, causing more blood and spit to fly off her face.</p><p>"I ain't goin' back. I'll die before I go back. You ain't takin' me back there," the girl tells them, waiting for them to come running over and grab her. Surprisingly, she is prepared to fight back, and her fingers were tracing the knife shoved into her trousers.</p><p>The one who initially dragged her out of the truck thundering over, his hands raised for her neck. Howard was bobbing back and forth on his feet behind her, waiting for one of them to want to fight. He hated these two men and would gladly kill them, regardless of what happened to the girl. But, before he can get his knuckles rammed into the guy's mouth, she grabs the knife out of her waistline and stabs him in the neck, so quickly, that Howard is caught off guard by the sudden spurt of blood in his face. His companion has already reached them, but Howard immediately takes him out with a hefty punch to his throat. He watches as the man gurgles and falls to the ground beside his companion, who is holding his throat and choking as blood pours over his hands and turns the ground red. The girl is staring at them before taking a step back, swallowing hard at the sight of them. She didn't regret it, though, not for a second. Howard looks down at her, now sprayed with blood, and she coughs and hawks out the remaining blood and spit from her beating, including a tooth that lands on one of the men.</p><p>Howard smirks at her, before stomping his foot on the man's stomach. "Little firecracker, you are." He mumbles before looking at her:</p><p>Forrest glances at her, puffing out a cloud of smoke. He leans his heavy frame against the metal door of the truck, tucking his hands into his thick wool sweater. "Jack, move that car," he murmurs. "Now, you should be on your way. Your daddy gon' be lookin' for you." he tells her. Forrest knew her, the daughter of a rival bootlegger from North Carolina, whose gotten too close to their turf too many times. His name was Wallace.</p><p>She freezes and gulps, before shaking her head. Behind her, Jack had moved the rusty truck wagon to the side of the road. Howard grabs the almost dead men, before eyeing a small ravine on the bottom of the way. He drags the bodies over, before throwing them face down in the water, watching their bodies begin to tremble in attempts to breathe weakly, but both soon go still. Even in the dark, with only the moonlight illuminating and the headlights illuminating the ravine, he can see red beginning to taint the water.</p><p>"I ain't goin' back to him, sir." She stammers out, wiping the blood off her face, only making it smear across her eyes and lips. She looks pathetic, standing in the headlights and dressed like a runaway boy.</p><p>Forrest shakes his head, huffing again. "Well, best run along then, the road is long." He mumbled before opening the truck door, climbing in without a last look. Before Jack starts the car, she runs forward and puts her hand on Forrest's door, making the usually stoic man raise an eyebrow.</p><p>"I can help ye'!" She exclaims, hoping she can convince the brothers to let her in. She knows they don't know her, nor trust her because of her daddy, but she can try.</p><p>"Why should we keep ye?" Howard says this time, he was still leaning against the truck. Forrest rolls his eyes at his drunk brother but listens to what the runaway has to say.</p><p>"I don't talk good; I know that, but I can read. I kept the books for my daddy before, before I ran away. I can do it for yous'." She murmurs and reaches into her waistline again, pulling out a small notebook, pieced together by twine and scraps of paper. She hands it to Forrest, who takes it and opens the pages to find surprisingly eligible handwriting, and mathematics detailing the ventures and gains of her daddy's moonshine. She described all of it, the barrels, the funds, which he sold to, everything. Forrest raises his eyebrows while he thumbed through the pages.</p><p>"Why did yous leave your daddy?" Howard asks her. He remembers her better now- the quiet daughter of moonshine hillbilly from North Carolina. He had only seen her once, standing behind her rugged angry daddy, staring at the Bondurant brothers with wide eyes. They had only met once, nearly causing a fight between their two gangs. Her name is Ruth.</p><p>"He killed my ma'. He gon' kill me too if he finds me. I can't go back there." Ruth answers, hugging her body tightly. Forrest is cringing, wondering what to do with the kid. He looks back at her and decides he'll give her a week to see if she can organize the books as well as she says she can. He admits having the notebook is helpful because he can see where her daddy planned to sell and who he planned to sell. Forrest sighs before nodding to the bed of the truck.</p><p>"We'll see how you do. Get in." He mumbled before finally getting Jack to move on. Just as the car starts, Howard leans over and pulls Ruth up into the truck, setting her down beside him, and he turns to lean on the car and let his head hang back, happy to have the cold air on his face.</p><p>That's how she got involved with the Bondurant brothers, and how she became their bookkeeper and record keeper. She documented everything. Since she ran away with nothing but the clothes on her back, they allowed her to have an old, small room in their place, and a meal a day as her payment.</p><p>o0o</p><p>The events which lead them to slip away into the quiet night and be by themselves were not good ones. Earlier, at the restaurant, she had been sitting beside Cricket. The sweet boy was doing his best to reenact a joke he had heard, but two drunk and rowdy men soon turned their way and began sending insults to the young man. Ruth pulled Cricket up, glaring at them, before one of them grabbed her arm and hauled her back, yelling some drunken insults at her. She couldn't even remember what he said; she didn't have time to process it before Howard came thundering over, grabbing them and tossing them like rag dolls. He was roaring at them, before catching the man who had touched her and began sending punch after punch on his face. Howard only finished when Forrest came up, quietly grumbling at him to stop. He finally did, but not before another kick to his stomach. They didn't know these men, they were out of town strangers who they didn't trust anyways, and Howard felt little beating their faces in- like always. Howard felt little about anything; his constant drinking made sure of that.</p><p>Howard didn't see Ruth again until he found her sitting by a tree, hours later, her legs tucked up and her head leaning on her knees. It was hours then, dusk now. Her hands gripped her lengthy hair, and she stared at the broken down, rusty truck in front of her. She froze as he came walking towards her. The giant man stopped, staring at her before looking back at the lush forest in front of him. He closed his eyes as the breeze caught his short hair, feeling nice on his warm skin. He pulls off his hat, letting it drop to the ground before sighing and opening his eyes, staring at the stars.</p><p>"You shouldn't have done that, Howard," Ruth mumbles as she spreads her legs out, leaning back against the tree and looking up at the stars too. Her old grey shirt is open, leaving her skin exposed to the breeze.</p><p>Howard looks down, almost quizzically at her. "Why?"</p><p>"Cause, you coulda hurt." She answers. Howard laughs loudly at her and the stupidity of the statement. No one can hurt him. She quickly gets up, beginning to walk away into the trees before he runs in front of her, putting his hands up, but doesn't grab her. Howard doesn't feel things like other people; he's always taught to be tough. He drinks so much that he is numb, and the only thing he feels is anger. Around her, though, it's not just anger. She talks him down and brings him back to his senses when he's too drunk and angry to make sense of anything around him.</p><p>"Imma' go make a fire. You come with me now." He instructs her. She doesn't fight him, only nodding, and they make their way further into the woods, to a clearing which he frequents. She's found him there more than once.</p><p>The fire crackles and pops now. Howard took a swig from his ever-constant jar before filling his mouth and shooting liquid at the light to make it erupt, and the flames lick the dark sky. Ruth lay on her side, her arm tucked under her head, and her knees brought to her chest. He was sitting just beside her, close enough to occasionally feel her arm graze his, but not close enough to be touching her always. Howard wouldn't do that, doesn't want to. </p><p>"My daddy killed my first boyfriend, Howard. Daddy dragged me out by my hair- made me watch while he hung up on the tree then shot him through his head. That boy was innocent, ain't never hurt a fly. He died because of me because I was a white girl with a daddy who hated black men. But I knew, in the end, it wasn't cause James was black. My daddy would kill any man who touched me. He killed my ma, ' too. She didn't do nothing; she just was late one-night makin' supper. That's why I ran away. He's still lookin' for me, has been since I left. If he finds me, and if you're there, I ain't lettin', nothing happens to you because of me."</p><p>Howard sneered before turning away from her, his eyes flying to the brilliant trees as he took a swig from his jar. The alcohol burned his lips, and the fire flickered in his eyes. "You think anyone could hurt me? Especially your daddy? He wouldn't stand a chance, girl."</p><p>She swallowed hard, tucking a piece of ratty hair behind her ear, leaving a dirt smear on her face from her fingers. "Daddy's huntin' me, Howard. He'll kill me too if he finds me."</p><p>This statement makes Howard's head snaps over before a low growl rumbled out of his throat. "No. I'll kill him when I find him. I'll kill him for what he did to you. Ain't no one ever gon' touch you if you don't want them to." He roars, making her jump. She sits up quickly, on her knees. She is still beside him, and when he goes to take another swig from the jar, she puts her hand on it, pushing it down to his side again. He's taken off his old brown jacket, leaving him in only his ripped blue plaid shirt and torn pants. His hair is scruffy and plastered to his now sweaty forehead. What a sight the two of them are, looking like two street streels.</p><p>"I don't need you to protect me, Howard. I can take care of myself." She snaps at him, before leaning back to sit down, but he turns and leans forward, so close to her that his hand is resting beside her thigh and his arm is covering her body while his face is only a few inches away. She can smell his breath, the reek of alcohol, and his hazy eyes search her face.</p><p>"Ain't nothin' gon stop me from doing that." He slurs out, before slumping back down to his spot, taking another swig of moonshine, and she lies back down again. She isn't smiling, but she feels safer than she has in all her years.</p><p>o0o</p><p>Howard comes storming into her room, his muscles twitching and heaving, so much so that he is snarling and growling like a wild animal.</p><p>It was late, past 2 am. Ruth had been dozing off before the sound of doors slamming, chairs falling, and Howard yelling woke her up.</p><p>Her door is hanging open, and Ruth walks over, hands up. She was sitting in an old nightdress with her window open, letting the moonlight floods her barren room. Her notebook is on the floor next to the mattress—the sparse clothes on a heap on the floor in the corner.</p><p>"Howard, I need you to come back to me now, you hear? You come back from that dark place and come back to me now." She says, very quietly, in almost a whisper.</p><p>His eyes are wild from alcohol and anger. Ruth breathes out softly and holds her palm out. He glares at it like it'll burn him if he's too close. After a few moments, he breathes out. Howard raises a hand, running fingers over her wrist, and down her palm, to the tips of her fingers. She carefully steps around him, quietly closing the door before walking to her mattress and sitting down on the old quilt. He staggered over, dropping into place beside her. She reaches up and begins undoing his ripped blue plaid shirt, and he closes his eyes at her touch. His mind is ragged, angry, and confused. He opens his eyes and focuses his blurry vision on her, his little firecracker.</p><p>Ruth didn't know what happened to make him so angry; she didn't need to. She eventually gently pushes him back onto the mattress. He lays there, sweating, before reaching out and tracing her hand with his harsh, dirty fingers. She turns over, staring at him in the moonlight, hoping he will sleep off his drunken haze.</p><p>o0o</p><p>"I want ya to stop drinkin'," Ruth says firmly, standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. She had gotten angry when she heard tell of what he had done the night before, get so drunk and in a fight with six other men. He had come out of it, but not unscathed. She had seen him, with his bruised eyes, cracked lip, and a broken nose at the restaurant. She felt angry and decided to confront him at his lake, where he was making more of the dreaded moonshine, white lightning. She realized she now hates the stuff, more than anything.</p><p>When Howard finally turns to look at her, even though his swollen eyes, he can barely recognize her. For once, her hair was not ratty, as Maggie had spent over an hour brushing it out, braiding it, and pinning the chestnut hair to the back of her head. Maggie had also bathed her, scrubbing off the years of dirt caked onto her body, and washed her few clothes, even gifting her blouse and skirt from her wardrobe. Ruth was beyond ecstatic to have met Maggie, the kind, beautiful woman who had adopted the messy runway as her own.</p><p>Howard looks her up and down, looking cleaner and, well, like a girl. The blouse was red, and the skirt was grey. Howard grabs his bucket, grumbling and turning back to the lake, getting ready to heave more water. Who is she to tell him to stop drinking?</p><p>"Leave me alone, Ruthie. You can't tell me, nothin'." He snaps and dumps a bucket of water down. It was grey outside, and cold, and grabs his jar. He's about to take a swig when Ruth runs over, grabs it, and throws it in the lake. He feels his blood boil at her actions.</p><p>"Yer goin' to kill yourself. I ain't watchin' you do that," she screams at him, and he wants to roar, yell, punch something, but he doesn't. Ruth sighs, swallowing hard then stepping forward, extending her palm. "I know why you drink, cause of the things you saw in the war, and I know they hurt you, no matter what you want to say. I know you remember all of them, and all the bad things you saw. You drink to forget everythin' you saw." She finally chokes out. Howard throws the wooden bucket at a tree, making it explode on impact and shatter into a million pieces. She closes her eyes and tears brim, but she bats them away before they can spill on to her cheeks. Howard lets out a howl before punching a tree, and then grabbing it and holding it tightly to keep himself balanced. Ruth is still standing in her place, eyes closed. She has her palm extended and is waiting silently. Howard looks at her palm, then her. He is angry because she is right. Finally, the tall man walks over, reaching a trembling hand out and running his fingers over her palm. The lake and the air is quiet and heavy, surrounding him in a thick, dense fog which he breathes in and out.</p><p>He hates that's she's right. But he can't stop drinking. Maybe one day. Not today.</p><p>o0o</p><p>She knew her daddy would find her eventually, but she never expected it to happen when she was out in a small lake, waste deep and standing stock still, with Cricket watching her from the bank. He was grinning and leaning on his better leg, waiting for her to show her a trick; when she eyed a fish and catches it with her mouth. Gross, but funny for him.</p><p>But, the sudden gunshots in the air, with the howling of hunting dogs, make her jump. She knew those dogs; she knew those shouts and those men now running after them. She threw herself out of the pond before giving Cricket a hard shove in the opposite direction of where she was going to run. She can't let anything happen to him; he's too good.</p><p>"Go, Cricket! Go back. You run away from them, you hear? You run away from my daddy!" She screams and doesn't wait for him to answer before barreling up the tree line, praying the sweet boy has time to run far, far away, back to the protection of the brothers. The cabin isn't far from here, but she isn't feeling too lucky for herself.</p><p>She doesn't know how long she runs through the trees, batting and swatting the branches and dead leaves out of her way, pushing her legs faster as she hears her daddy's hunting dogs closing in on her. She finally finds one of Howard's makeshift hideaways; a small hold hid under a collection of shrubbery and branches. She falls to her knees and throws herself in, rolling on to her back, but covering her mouth as she does so to try and silence her breathing. She hopes the water would get rid of her scent for the dogs, but to no such luck. She hears her them outside, and her heart stops at the sound of thundering footsteps and her daddy's loud voice.</p><p>"There you are, you ain't runnin' from me no more!" He roars and rips the branches off, exposing her hideaway. He is spewing spit out of his fat mouth, and he is red with anger. He has no shirt, only suspenders, and trousers. A hoard of dirty men surrounds him, all laughing and howling at her. Ruth is now on her knees, tears in her eyes.</p><p>He aims his shotgun at her nose, and she lets out a scream. Wallace laughs at her before walking forward and smashing the butt of his gun on her nose, and instantly she feels her nose crack and blood start pouring out and drenching her face and neck. She weakly reaches up and clutches her nose, and before her daddy could grab her by her hair, a loud whooping howl fills the air. The men turn to look in the direction, and so does her daddy. She knows who it is, Howard. The whooping continues, and she looks up at her daddy and snarls. "You hear that, daddy? That's the devil comin' for you. You better run, daddy." She knows her only chance is the ledge behind her little hideout, it's a straight drop about seven feet to the forest floor below, but she thinks that's where Howard is coming. She punches her daddy in the groin before shoving herself backward and tumbling down the ledge, landing in a pile of dead leaves and twigs and rocks. She groans on the impact, but quickly gets up and starts screaming.</p><p>"Howard!" She cries and limps in the direction of the whooping, desperately searching for his figure against the green and brown swirl of the trees. Then, there he is. He had come tumbling out of the woods, his wild eyes searching for her. A shotgun is dangling out of his hands. He grabs her, pulling her in tightly as the sound of screaming and dogs fills the air. Howard is still holding her with one hand, while his other goes under her chin and tilts her chin, examining her broken nose and bruises now forming on her face. She can't focus on him, the world around her is a blur- the greenery and woods are swimming in her eyes, and the bright white sky is burning her eyes. Howard is shaking her, resisting the urge to go after the men who did this to her. He knew it was her daddy because Cricket came running back to the restaurant, screaming about the hoard of men chasing Ruth. Howard didn't wait to hear anything his brother said, just grabbed the shotgun and went running into the woods to hunt them down, following the sounds of the hunting dogs and men shouting, seeing red, until Howard heard her scream his name. He screeched to a stop, his eyes darting around the trees and finally seeing her just below him on the forest floor below. Howard threw himself through the trees until he could hold her. He wants nothing more than to kill those men, but he can feel Ruth begin to quiver in his arms, and soon her legs buckle, and he quickly swoops down and hooks his arm under her legs. Howard swings her up, hugging her small body tightly to his chest. He looks back once in the direction of the screaming men and howling dogs, letting a growl rumble out his throat before turning and running back to their camp. Next time her daddy shows up, he's going to kill him and his men- Every single one of them. Ruth is now limp in his arms, with her head bobbing up and down on his chest. There is blood smearing her face and body, and his anger only grows.</p><p>When her daddy shows up the next day, Howard was balancing precariously on a chair in the restaurant, the ever-present jar of whiskey in his hand. He had been binge drinking since bringing Ruthie back, and he could feel his blood boiling- just waiting for someone to test him and waiting to get his hands on Wallace.</p><p>Ruthie was still on her mattress from the day before. He had come bursting through the doors of the restaurant, screaming and cursing. Forrest and Maggie had come rushing over before Maggie had yelled at him to get her upstairs. She had ripped Ruth's clothes off before getting a bowl of water and sponging off the blood. Howard was pacing around her room, still shouting and roaring about going back out and ripping their throats out. Ruth's hazy eyes had opened, and she weakly held out her palm to him. He scowled and heaved, before finally looking at her one more time and thundering out of the room. He wasn't there for her when he should have been, and he hates himself for it.</p><p>That's when he stormed downstairs, grabbed the first jar of whiskey he could find, and started chugging. He didn't stop drinking for the entire night.</p><p>The doors of the restaurant flew open, and seven men came streaming in. Howard could smell their stench before even seeing them, and when he did, he wrinkled his nose and immediately slammed his chair to the ground, fists balling up, and ready for a fight. Ruthie was still safe in her bed upstairs, ain't no way that man is going to get to her.</p><p>The drunk bald man glared at all the people in the small restaurant, before raising a dirty finger at Howard. "I heard tell that my baby daughter was hangin' round this here spot. I came to take back what's mine."</p><p>Howard didn't wait for any other words to be said. Red seeped into his vision, and before anyone could stop him, Howard had lept off his chair, grabbed her daddy, and dragged him outside. He threw the older man to the ground and then stomped on his head. The other men had come running out, but Forrest was behind them, and Jack joined with his gun. Forrest watched with wide eyes but didn't bother to stop him. Instead, he turned back to stare at their surroundings, the once quiet dirt road, the trees, and rusty cars. Forrest sighed, breathed in before feeling one of the men grab his arm, attempting to pull him into a fight. He sighs, his fists clench around his brass knuckles before his eyes shoot open and he punches the man in the throat.</p><p>Ruth is watching in the upstairs window, with Maggie holding her tightly. Her whole life, she had been tormented and hurt at the hands of her daddy and his men. In one second, her tormentors disappeared. </p><p>Howard stumbles back when he finishes, shaking his head harshly before turning and looking up at Ruth in the window. Her father's blood is splattered across his legs and boots, and as he walked away, the blood remained in his boot prints.</p><p>That night, Howard makes his way to her room. He isn't quiet; he has never had that luxury. Everywhere Howard goes- his big, thundering footprints follow. He walks through the dark rooms before opening the doors to her, and makes his way to her moonlit mattress, slumping beside it. She opens her eyes and rolls over, staring at him. Bruises litter her face, and her nose is now bent. She holds out her palm, and he instead grabs her hand before leaning down, pressing his forehead against hers.</p><p>"Ain't no one treatin' you like that again."</p><p>He says it so plainly that she believes it. He fell asleep like that, head pressed against hers, half lying on the mattress and the floor, and his hand gripping hers.</p>
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